


each morning i get up i die a little

by kyrilu



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gellert Grindelwald is not portrayed by Johnny Depp, Amortentia, Crack, Dubious Consent, M/M, Pre-Movie 1: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 16:28:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8998297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyrilu/pseuds/kyrilu
Summary: Gellert is meditating in his mystical Seer Room of Seeing once again trying to envision a world where Albus Dumbledore would fuck him rule by his side, when he is interrupted by two time traveling idiots who knock over a powerful aphrodisiac potion.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is not meant to be serious or in-character. At all.
> 
> This is for you, HPLV/HPTR gc, light of my life.

The air was thick with the scent of burning sage and thyme. Gellert was sitting on a large, violet silk bolt of fabric on the ground, his eyes closed and his breathing steady.

Most Divination theory was complete nonsense, but Gellert nonetheless chose to indulge in the Divination room cliche. His grandmother had one, having chosen a career as a Naming Seer, and she liked to unbalance clients by ushering them into a dark room, where herbs and skulls were strung on the walls.

Gellert spent the majority of his childhood watching her make simple prophecies. _Your son shall be named Sebastian, like the Muggle martyr,_ she’d say, and cackle, and the parents would shiver. His experiences watching her had stuck with him.

So his own meditation room was draped in elegant overhanging strips of colorful fabric, and there was a table covered with candles and herbs and bubbling cauldrons. He wasn’t maudlin enough to stick in skulls, however--the idea of stripping the flesh off any wizard or witch he struck down in the battlefield gave him chills.

At that thought, he heard Albus chiding him in his head, and Gellert was struck with a strong sense of nostalgia again. Albus had recently written an article on Transfiguration in the papers, and there was a picture in it, his old friend in shifting black and white…

He missed him. It had been years--ages--but Gellert never once met someone he could consider to be an equal, because they couldn’t measure up to Albus’ brilliance or talent. (Or the uncertain, sweet way eighteen year old Albus Dumbledore kissed him that first time, hesitant, his long red hair half-obscuring his face, and Gellert had grinned and laughed and kissed back--)

Gellert wanted to see it. A world where they both ruled with the Hallows. And not just see in his waking or sleeping dreams, but _See._

He concentrated on the swirling herbal scents in the air, reaching into the inner eye within himself--

\--and he was rudely interrupted by the crashing sound of one of his potion flasks shattering on the floor.

“ _Merlin--!_ ” someone exclaimed.

Gellert opened his eyes. There were two strange men in the room, sprawled against broken glass and silk fabric. Both of them were dark haired, dressed in black robes, and looked like they were in their mid-twenties.

He had never met them before. This should be impossible--the manor that Gellert had installed himself in at the moment was warded to hell and back.

Immediately, Gellert stood and drew his wand. “Who are you? Aurors?”

“Gellert Grindelwald?” one of the strangers said, his head tilted to the side. His eyes were an unsettling shade of red. “Hm. We’re in the past again, Harry. 1920s to 1930s, I believe.”

The second stranger--Harry--whipped out his wand and vanished the broken glass on his cloak. This one was wearing glasses--though not like Albus’ half moon spectacles, but regular circular ones--and there was a jagged scar on his forehead.

“Wonderful,” Harry said, sighing. “Nearly landing on top of a Dark Lord this time, too.”

“Who are you?” Gellert demanded again.

“Voldemort,” the first man said smoothly, not flinching at the sight of Gellert with his wand out, which was often the customary response. “We’re merely passing through, Grindelwald. Though I suppose I wouldn’t say no to dueling you at your prime--”

“Enough, Tom,” Harry said. “He has the Elder Wand. Do you really want to end up having to deal with more of Death’s bullshit?”

Voldemort grimaced slightly. “Fine.”

“You know about the Elder Wand,” Gellert said, his eyes narrowed.

“I’m the Master of Death,” Harry said, blithely. His wand, Gellert realized, looked exactly like the one Gellert was holding now. “From another universe, that is. Death isn’t my servant, though, and he’s a bit of a bastard. My soul and Tom’s are stuck together for...complicated reasons. We have to go on a scavenger hunt across timelines and universes for the rest of his soul, which got scattered after their vessels were destroyed.”

Gellert blinked. That did sound complicated. He decided to focus on the Hallows and said, “You have the Cloak and the Stone.”

Voldemort’s eyes glittered. “Do try to take them. I might get my duel after all.”

“ _Enough,"_  Harry said again, more firmly. “Let’s go, Tom. You know that Death doesn’t like us meddling with timelines too much, even if this is an alternate one.”

Suddenly, Gellert detected a sweet, almost floral scent in the air. It was different from the herbs that he was burning, and he stilled. “Exactly what flask did you break--?” he said, his voice low.

“Er, it was a shiny white potion,” Harry said. “Sorry about that.”

“That was an Amortentia variant,” Gellert said, slowly. He could feel the floral scent creeping to flood his senses, making him heady, his cheeks flushing with warmth. “An extremely powerful Amortentia variant that I developed myself.”

“You’re joking,” Harry said. But Gellert saw the pinkness on the young man’s cheeks and the way his eyes widened. “Oh, hell. Do you have an antidote?”

“Not for my modified version,” Gellert said, and found himself sinking to the floor, his hands clenched, his wand forgotten at the side. By Morgana, this was...not good.

“Who keeps a modified Amortentia variant just sitting around?” Harry said with a groan. “Oh, gross, don’t tell me you intended it for--”

“Do not finish that sentence,” Voldemort said, warningly. He was glaring daggers at Gellert. “At least we know that particular scheme didn’t work. By that repulsive reporter’s account, they didn’t officially meet again until that last time.”

What on earth were they going on about--? Gellert struggled with the swelling sensation in his trousers, willing it to go away. He knew that the Amortentia variant wouldn’t last too long, but this was painful.

“Right,” Harry said. He turned to Gellert. “Grindelwald, Dumbledore is not going to fuck you.”

“Excuse me--” Gellert started. These strangers didn’t even know him.

“Gellert,” Harry continued, “he defeats you in 1945.”

“I murder you in 1998,” Voldemort added helpfully.

“...I have foretold that,” Gellert said stiffly.

“Of course you have,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. "Bloody Seers."

Gellert let out an exhale. It was infuriating, having to bear both the potion’s effects and this annoying prattle. He was a Dark Lord, for Merlin’s sake, not a vulnerable, inane Muggle.

He was satisfied, at least, that the potion was having an equally frustrating effect on his two unexpected visitors. Harry was breathing hard, and even Voldemort--who seemed to be the most unaffected, his gaze and his posture remaining stoic and arrogant--was now shifting uneasily.

“Why do I keep ending up in situations like this?” Harry muttered.

“This is not the first time you accidentally were exposed to sex magic around a Dark Lord?” Gellert said, eyebrows quirked.

Harry winced. “That time with Salazar Sly--”

“We swore to never talk about that,” Voldemort said. “He was my _ancestor."_

“A very distant one.”

“Your promise, Harry. Or _I_ will bring up the time when you asked me, I quote, ‘Do you have two dicks, Tom?’”

“I was drunk,” Harry said, snarling, grabbing at Voldemort’s cloak. “It was the first timeline we landed in and I got blackout drunk trying to forget that my soul was attached to yours. You git. This is all your fault, sticking that Horcrux in me and now we’re sex potioned up with _Gellert fucking Grindelwald."_

“You’re the one who became Master of Death in the first place, and Death is the entire reason we’re on this mission,” Voldemort growled back. “And I wasn’t even in my snakelike form, why the seven hells would I have two--”

“It could be a genetic trait in the Slytherin line. Like Parseltongue.”

“I’m certain that the matron at the orphanage would have killed me on sight if I had snake genitalia. It’s called a hemipenis, Potter.”

“ _I hate you,"_ Harry said, and he tugged Voldemort into a furious, fierce kiss that the other wizard returned, equally as furiously and fiercely. They were hissing at each other between kisses, and Gellert sighed--Parseltongue, of course they were Parselmouths--and resigned, he shrugged his hand into his pants.

He did not expect his Amortentia experimentation to result in this. With him pathetically wanking in the corner while two time travelers angrily fucked each other right in front of him.

Gellert closed his eyes and tried to think of Albus again.

* * *

Before Harry and Voldemort left, Voldemort looked at Gellert with a sort of sardonic sympathy.

“You killed Dumbledore’s mother or some such person, did you not?”

“His sister,” Gellert corrected. He was tired. He could feel a headache coming on. His wrist was painfully sore.

“Try to find a way to make up for that,” Voldemort said. “I killed Harry’s parents. We got along better once we found an alternate timeline where his parents and godfather lived. We still visit sometimes. Good luck with the old coot.”

Then he turned and Apparated with a crack.

...Well.

Gellert sighed. He didn’t know of any stable means for time travel, but it wasn’t a bad idea in theory. Maybe he could find a pitiful child somewhere and give it to Albus.

Perhaps an Obscurial like Ariana--? So Gellert would have the perks of having a powerful follower, and Albus would feel personally gratified about rescuing an abused child?

Plans formulating in his mind, Gellert nodded to himself. He took a seat once again on the silk fabric of his meditation room.

He would look for an Obscurial and together, he and Albus would raise it against the backdrop of an empire that they collectively ruled for the greater good.


End file.
